


{the strangest thing, deliberate}

by 4wholecats



Category: Drag-On Dragoon | Drakengard, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cannibalism, Character Study, F/F, I don't know what archetype "flying pissed off woman" falls under but its a good one, please play drakengard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25518319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats
Summary: {i love the pain, i love the game}{come into my arms, come into my arms}She takes you away. She heals your wounds. She sings to you in the voice of a broken angel, in an alphabet you cannot name. She holds your monstrous body like a treasure, and she makes you feel that perhaps, it’s better this way. Scorned by the silent, you drift together on the cusp of reality, casting aside the weighty expectations of other people’s hopes and dreams.
Relationships: Furiae/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	{the strangest thing, deliberate}

**Author's Note:**

> play drakengard 1 im begging you

She was a beautiful young woman once, and perhaps you were too. You remember how she was before; how her dull blue eyes looked through you when you first met. Through you. Not at you. Because she always had eyes for another, and through him, another still. 

_ “I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, future Emperor of Adrestia. What is your name?”  _

_ “Hm? I am…” _

But those men are gone now. And finally, now that the paint of a pristine porcelain doll has chipped and rotted off, she meets you, eye to roaming eye. The knife is gone from her chest, but you can still see the wound, ugly and red on her otherwise pristine flesh. 

_ You catch her looking out the window of the palace, a lonely visitor; forehead pressed against the pane. She turns to you as you approach, and you can see the smudges that her skin has left on the glass. She sweats as much as any other mortal, regardless of title. _

Your bodies fold and grow around each other like two ugly, contorted trees dancing in the underbrush; your stretched and mangled arms reaching out to hers perfectly far. She has remained soft, where you have grown as callous as your heart. Her feathers, befitting of an angel, brush up against your cheek as she holds your face in her hands. She grins like a hungry snake. 

_You burst from the roof of the palace in a cascade of crumbling stonework and metal, leaving your teacher and their army behind in the rubble. Your grand plan, failed. You, injured and unstable. Your sickly wings beat, and it takes all the energy in your body not to flop back down to Earth and be consumed by the consequences of your actions. You smell ozone and blood as it leaks from you like water from a rusted fountain, splattering on the flagstones of the burning courtyard below._ _Your body sputters and dies from exhaustion, and as you begin to fall, you see her hanging there; an omen, towering and pure._

She takes you away. She heals your wounds. She sings to you in the voice of a broken angel, in an alphabet you cannot name. She holds your monstrous body like a treasure, and she makes you feel that perhaps, it’s better this way. Scorned by the silent, you drift together on the cusp of reality, casting aside the weighty expectations of other people’s hopes and dreams. 

_ You don’t recognize her at first. Her body is warped and stretched, but it’s her face that catches you most off guard. Where there had once been a dull-eyed girl was now a desperate, screaming animal. An animal that grasps you by the arm and takes aim at the army now gathering below. A ballista explodes beneath you as the air bends around you both; crushed into sharp points and fired upon the crowd. This strength felled a dragon; surely it can erase a simple gathering of men.  _

She lands in front of you in a haze of thundering wing beats, stirring up rocks and dust as she goes. She is taller than you, but only just so. A desecrated corpse slides off the end of her sharp, carapace covered tail. A man, middle aged, dead. She leans down, and you kiss her on the neck at payment for the meal. The growths on your body have crept up your face, leaving it pockmarked and stiff, but she wheezes in delight as your rough lips and sharp teeth brush her still perfect, still sublime skin. 

As you stare up at her with your sunken eyes, for the first time in your life, the word  _ Goddess _ is a reverent and holy thing. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for indulging me in the rarepair to end all rarepairs


End file.
